


Closure.

by irlenolacroix



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Epilogue, M/M, Personal Growth, and a response to the sfm epilogue website, this is basically an epilogue to nine step guide, this is basically my self-indulgent way of saying thank you to limbolane, which made me cry a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlenolacroix/pseuds/irlenolacroix
Summary: The flowers in the garden never stopped growing. Sometimes they shriveled a little, unable to cope with dry soil or harsh cold, but with a little water and a little warmth, they always came back stronger. They always grew new leaves, new flowers. They were always trying, in the cold months and the warm, to grow back, to grow further, to thrive.***An epilogue to my first Smile For Me fic, Boris Habit's 9-Step Guide to Closure. This fic is also functioning somewhat as a response to the Smile For Me epilogue, as well as a celebration of its anniversary. To Yugo Limbo and Gabe Lane, thank you. You have no idea what this game has done for me.
Relationships: Dr. Boris Habit & Putunia Mollar, Flower Kid & Dr. Boris Habit, Kamal Bora/Dr. Boris Habit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	Closure.

It had been a year since Russia, and each day came easier.

Boris woke up at seven o’clock. Sometimes the numbers on his digital clock still surprised him. He was so used to twos, threes, fours. But it hadn’t been like that for a while. Sometimes he still scared himself awake, but that was seldom the case anymore, and when it did happen, he had a warm presence to clutch closer to his chest. Kamal was a heavy sleeper, but sometimes he felt Boris there, and would snuggle into him. Safe. Warm. Comfortable.

This morning, Boris woke up at seven.

Kamal was there still. He groaned a little, turned over in bed, his spine popping as he did so. He buried his face in Boris’s chest, clinging to him and mumbling a “good morning, big guy.”

Boris kissed the top of his head. “Good morning, lily.”

The sunlight was quiet. It didn’t waver through the thin curtains, just illuminated the room in a steady glow. Kamal was there, and he was real, and the sun shone on him. Boris was there, too. He was real. He felt real.

Sleepy morning kisses. Gentle and kind. Too special to be considered mundane or routine.

Real.

Seven-fifteen. Boris got up. “Got to get Putunia out of bed,” he said, and Kamal whined, but let him go. Boris chuckled and gave him another little kiss before getting up. He put on some clothes. He liked this shirt. Kamal had helped him alter it to fit. It had lilies on it, pink ones. Not like his lily, but still pretty. He kissed the lily on the window sill before heading downstairs.

“Get out of bed, little sprout,” he said gently to Putunia, and she mumbled and patted his face. Chrysanthemum meowed in the doorway. The house was quiet, and the morning was still.

Boris made breakfast. Kamal came downstairs and held him, pressing his forehead against Boris’s back, only stopping when Putunia made an exaggerated gagging noise as she came into the kitchen. Kamal giggled, and Boris did as well.

It was all real, and Boris didn’t feel afraid.

“Got to get to work,” Kamal said after they’d eaten. “You two have a good day, I’ll be home at five.” He kissed Putunia’s forehead. “I love ya, kid.”

“I love you too!”

Kamal grinned and turned to Boris. He kissed his forehead too, holding his face in his hands. “I love ya, Boris.”

“I love you too,” Boris said softly.

Twenty more minutes. Boris walked Putunia to the bus stop. He kissed her forehead before she got on the bus, and she waved to him as they left. Tim Tam waved too, from their usual seat beside Putunia. Boris waved back. He was smiling. He liked smiling, he liked it a lot. He felt he was doing it so much more often now.

He had to open the shop. That was real too.

Old friends came to the shop. Mirphy needed some fresh flowers for a photoshoot, Dallas as a still life reference. Jerafina and Lulia were both trying to surprise each other, and Boris swore not to tell either one. Borbra needed another houseplant, as Rice Pilaf had taken quite a liking to them. Trencil’s garden hadn’t fully bloomed for the season yet, and he needed a bouquet for a date he had that night, as well as some seeds. Randy came to the store and sat behind the counter for a while, writing. He did this every Wednesday for inspiration. Boris always made tea. He loved the company.

Even Wallus came. He and Boris were talking again. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It was the beginning of something, and Boris had grown to love beginnings.

The flower child came by before Boris closed. They talked, spent time together, exchanged flower facts. The shipment would be coming tomorrow, they explained, and Boris handed them the promised seeds, with a few extra. They smiled, and hugged him, and he rested his head atop theirs while hugging back. Their hands were ready to speak when they pulled away.

_ Thank you, _ they signed to him.

“What for?” he asked in a whisper.

_ For being you. For showing me that people can be better. That the world can be better. For saving my life, and my love for growth and for change. For being my friend. _

They smiled at him, and it reached their eyes. Boris was smiling back, and crying, and he’d learned to be okay with that.

“Thank you, too,” he said, and they hugged him once more.

Boris closed up for the night. He stopped at Putunia’s bus stop and walked her home while she enthused about her day. He smiled, and she smiled, and they asked each other questions, and she laughed when he picked her up to carry her into the house. Chrysanthemum meowed, and Boris almost thought she was smiling too.

Kamal got home later, and kissed them both. The house was quiet. They had dinner. Putunia finished her homework. Bedtime came for her with only a little bit of resistance, and then it was just Boris and Kamal, in the house. Quiet.

They were on the couch. Kamal read a novel, Boris a book on botany. His arm was around Kamal, and Kamal’s head was leaned onto his chest. Boris could hear the soft inhales and exhales of Kamal’s breath. He was real. He was alive. He was here, and Boris didn’t have to be scared of anything anymore.

“The flower child thanked me today,” Boris said softly, and Kamal turned to look at him.

“What’d they say?”

“They thanked me for showing them that people and the world could be better,” Boris said, his voice just above a murmur. “For saving them. For being their friend.”

Kamal was quiet for a long moment, then he put his book down and rotated so he was facing his husband. “You wanna know something?”

Boris tipped his head. “Hmm?”

“You’re a real good person, Boris Habit,” Kamal said. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

Boris swallowed. “I… still have trouble with that, sometimes.” He took a breath. “Sometimes I am still very, very scared.”

Kamal nodded, and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “It’s okay to be scared,” he said. “That means you’re trying. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too,” Boris murmured.

Kamal wrapped his arms around him. “I love you,” he said.

Boris felt warm inside, like there were so many feelings inside of him that he might melt. “I love you too.”

Kamal’s gaze softened, and he reached up to cup Boris’s face in his hand. “There’s that smile I love so much,” he whispered.

Kamal loved his smile. Missing teeth and all. Boris loved Kamal’s smile too.

Smiles. Real ones.

What a difference, Boris thought. What a difference a year can make.

The flowers in the garden never stopped growing. Sometimes they shriveled a little, unable to cope with dry soil or harsh cold, but with a little water and a little warmth, they always came back stronger. They always grew new leaves, new flowers. They were always trying, in the cold months and the warm, to grow back, to grow further, to thrive.

Boris knew the path to growth wouldn’t ever really end. But he came back stronger each time he wilted.

He kissed Kamal’s lips, and the flowers outside swayed in the breeze, like a dance, like a sigh, like an “I love you”, like a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> i want to thank limbolane for creating the game that saved my life and my creativity. i wouldn't be where i am today without smile for me. smile for me gave me my sense of purpose back, my sense of hope. even in these terrifying and restless times, i look to smile for me for hope. i cannot express how much that means to me.
> 
> 9-step guide is my favorite story i've ever written, and my most important. it means the world and more to me, and i'm so thankful that so many people have read it and loved it. i hope this epilogue can capture at least some of that same spirit.
> 
> my tumblr is winemomparker if anyone ever wants to chat. <3
> 
> happy anniversary, smile for me. thank you so much, for everything.


End file.
